


Ride

by ottertrashpalace



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A little funny, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, DEEPLY self-indulgent, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I hope, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mary Lou Is Her Own Warning, Mentions of past child abuse, Modern AU, Recovery, also mentions of grindelwald/credence (past), and a vest, biker!percy, credence gets a hug, i think im funny, non-sexual safeword use, not particularly realistic, percy is also a vet, police sergeant tina, probs longish, queenie is part of the biker gang?, some brief violent themes, this was not the plan but it was just too true to his character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9884936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottertrashpalace/pseuds/ottertrashpalace
Summary: When Tina finally gets CPS to look into the New Salem situation, they find an orphan boy too old to be a boy but too haunted to live alone. Enter Percy Graves, a broad, leather-clad man who wants nothing more than to keep him safe.





	1. A start

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: the legal stuff is all Bullshit, i didn't do any research, just go with it

“Would you like a pamphlet, ma’am?” a small voice reached Tina as she barreled towards the police station one day. She paused and looked around her, realizing that the source of the voice was a hunched boy in ill-fitted clothing, standing to her left with a long arm outstretched, offering a grey leaflet that trembled in the wind. The logo on the front belonged unmistakably to that New Salem cult, and said something about the End of Days and rapture, apocalyptic nonsense. She grimaced, but something about the boy’s quiet, earnest demeanor tugged at her heartstrings.

“Sure,” she said, surprising herself. What the hell was she going to do if those infernal reporters saw this? _Sergeant Goldstein found consorting with violent fundamentalist sect—_ she could see the headlines now. 

She sighed and shook her head, as though that would clear it of paranoia. It was a cold day, and no doubt this boy would be out here for quite some time in the wind and rain.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“C-Credence Barebone, ma’am,” the boy stuttered.

“Are you out here doing this all day?” Tina continued, rummaging around in her coat pocket.

“Yes, ma’am,” Credence responded, his tone betraying carefully guarded confusion. 

“Here—“ she muttered, procuring ten dollars, “buy yourself something hot for dinner.”

Her skin brushed his ever so slightly as she folded the bill into his hand, and he jerked away from the contact as though he’d been burned.

“Really—ma’am, I can’t,” he stammered. The combination of those two responses tripped a warning sensor in Tina’s brain. Now that she was looking, she saw faded scars on his hands, and God, he was so skinny… her stomach twisted.

“Take it,” she insisted, fixing him with a stern glance. He swallowed visibly, and nodded after a moment, pocketing the money.

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

“No need to thank me, Mr. Barebone.” Tina said over her shoulder as she continued on her way.

There was something there that certainly wasn’t as it should be.

 

Her next real encounter with the situation was months later; she’d seen the boy on and off in the street, sometimes accompanied by one of what she gathered to be his two sisters, handing out propaganda. The New Salemers were far from being the main concern of the NYPD, but they did pop up from time to time… today, they’d received a frantic call from a neighbor had repeatedly reported distressed noises and even screams from the small house-turned-church where Mary Lou Barebone and her fanatics did their business.

Tina herself didn’t go out on the call, though she did make sure to get a very thorough debriefing out of Louisa when she got back.

“It’s weird, boss,” she said, shaking her head. “Somethin’ just ain’t right about that place.”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Hernandez.” Tina said dryly.

“You’ve seen that Mary Lou woman, yes?”

“Sure.” Tina had read about her in the papers, even seen her holding demonstrations once or twice around downtown.

“Frankly, she’s fucking terrifying. Dead behind the eyes. Talks in riddles and Bible verses.”

“Hernandez…”

“I know, hard evidence. Thing is, those kids run around doing whatever she says to the letter, like their lives depend on it. Between that and the screams, I think we oughta send in CPS.”

“I’m not saying I disagree, but we need a statement from one of the kids.” Tina pointed out.

“Done and done. I’ll get the warrant.”

“Do they… go to school? Anything?” Tina wondered aloud.

Louisa shook her head grimly. “Nope. Homeschooled, apparently.” She huffed a little at that. 

“Great.”

 

In the end, though, they did manage to wrangle a CPS intervention. There were some days when Tina got to feel a little bit good about her job. This was one of them. The summary she received from it, however, was not so uplifting. Credence Barebone’s interview provided enough details to charge Mary Lou with several counts of emotional and physical abuse, neglect, assault, and battery. Instinct told Tina that this was only the tip of a horrifying iceberg.

The question was, however, where Credence himself would go during the sentencing process. He was 19, so he was too old for the processes that would find new homes for his sisters, but he was obviously in no place to live alone or even begin to be autonomous. He hadn’t even known his own age or birth name until investigators had dug out his birth certificate from public records.

It was Newt who convinced Tina in the end. It was true that their house had been feeling rather empty since Queenie moved out with Jacob, but she was honestly worried that she wouldn’t be able to provide for the young man adequately. To this, Newt pointed out sensibly that he was home all day writing and nursing his sizable collection of rescue animals, and would be perfectly capable of looking after him. 

“Newt, you don’t understand what this kid has been through,” she sighed one night as they lay in bed, Niff snuggled up between them.

“I’ve seen all sorts, Tina,” he replied, “I want to help as much as you do. It’s the least we can do for him.”

He was right.

So that was how Credence Barebone came to be standing in the doorway of Tina’s guest room, a small bag clutched to his chest with bony arms.

“This is your room. There’s a bathroom right off to the left, and Newt’s and my room is just down the hallway if you need anything. Please, don’t hesitate to wake us up.”

Credence didn’t respond. Tina glanced over, and realized that he was being accosted by an orange tabby, which was giving him a very thorough sniffing.

“Lay off, Robert,” She told the cat sternly. “He’s a guest.”

Credence’s eyes darted back and forth from her to the cat. 

“You tell us if any of the animals bother you as well, understood? They’re all reasonably friendly, but they’ll be awfully curious about a new person in the house.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Credence murmured, his eyes downcast again.

“Tina?” She reminded him, careful not to take a commanding tone.

“Sorry, ma—Tina.”

She smiled a little. It was progress. “Well, I’ll leave you to settle in, then. There’s soup and cornbread for dinner, come on down whenever you’re hungry.”

Newt gave her a worried look when she reached the kitchen, though the effect was somewhat softened by the giant oven mitts on his hands. 

“He’ll be alright, I think.” She murmured.

“Alright is relative.” He said. He was right, as usual. 

Tina nodded. “If he doesn’t come out by eight I’ll go check on him.”

They ate together in their usual companionable silence, broken periodically by one of the animals. Eight o’clock rolled around, and Credence predictably hadn’t emerged.

“I’ll go,” she said, as Newt pointedly checked his watch.

 

Credence was sitting stiffly on the foot of the bed, his bag at his feet, still packed. He looked like he hadn’t even moved in the past hour and a half. Tina placed herself in his line of sight, making her posture unthreatening and open. 

“Credence,” she murmured, “Credence?” 

The boy stiffened further, and glanced up briefly before returning to his hunched position. 

“Ms. Goldstein, I’m sorry…” he said quickly, stumbling to get to his feet.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Credence. I was just wondering if you wanted some dinner. We have plenty of soup left.” Tina tried to chose her words carefully, but she knew there was no telling what would bring back unpleasant memories.

“That’s alright, I’m not—I don’t need to eat.” He said, in a way that sounded too practiced.

Tina considered this. Either she could attempt to tackle whatever conditioning his bitch of an adoptive mother had beaten into him, or she could simply try to convince him to eat (which was half the battle anyway, right?)

“I’m sure you’re hungry, you’ve had a long day,” she said finally. “Come on then, while it’s still warm.” She gestured to the open door. Credence stared at it for a moment before slowly getting up.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“There’s no need to thank me,” Tina replied, a strong sense of deja vu coming over her.

Tina made him a bowl of soup, and sat him down at the table. She sat across from him and continued reading over some reports from work, keeping tabs on her guest subtly. Credence started slowly, but he sped up halfway through and devoured his meal. Once he was done, he collected his plates and took them to the sink, starting to wash them.

“Oh, don’t worry about those,” Tina called over her shoulder. “Go ahead and leave them in the sink, I’ll load the dishwasher later.” Credence froze, as though it went against his every instinct to leave those dirty dishes sitting. “Thanks for clearing your plate, though,” Tina added. Was she babbling? He just looked so worried, poor thing.

“We didn’t have a dishwasher,” he said quietly.

“Ah,” Tina said, not quite sure how to respond. “Well, it’s pretty easy to use, I’ll show you sometime.”

“Yes m— alright.” Credence turned back towards the door. “I think I’ll go back to my room.” 

As soon as Tina nodded, he vanished.

Newt sighed from his perch on the couch, where he was typing. Concern painted the glance he gave Tina. 

“I know,” she mumbled, trying and failing to refocus on her paperwork.

“I’m going to introduce him to Gryphon tomorrow.” Newt announced.

“I don’t know if that’s the best—“ Tina began.

“It _is_ the best idea,” Newt interrupted crossly. Tina rolled her eyes. Her partner had a writer’s penchant for archaic names, and she wasn’t sure if being introduced to a rotund Shetland pony named Gryphon would bring Credence out of his shell or only confuse him more. Even their Jack Russel’s name, Niff, was short for Nymphadora, which she was pretty sure Newt had found in some archaic Greek text.

She joined him on the couch, paperwork abandoned. She knew better than to read what was on his screen without invitation, and just closed her eyes. 

“We’ve done all we can, Tina,” Newt murmured. 

“I know,” she replied. “I just hope it’s enough.”


	2. Grounding

Credence woke with a shout. He was clammy all over, despite the soft mattress and warm quilt that Tina and Newt had given him. The soft sheets beneath his fingers reminded him of where he was, and he let his shoulders sag as he came back to himself. This was the fifth night in the week he’d been there that he’d woken himself with a nightmare, and he was ready to give up on sleep. The clock on his wall read four thirty anyway, and old habits never let him sleep past five. 

He went into the bathroom and splashed his face with water. The image that met him in the mirror turned his stomach—cheeks were too hollow, chin to sharp, hair that had yet to free itself from the way Mary Lou had liked to cut it. If he was going to meet this biker guy today, he was going to disappoint the man. _It’s not like I’ve ever done anything else_ , he thought acerbically.

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Newt muttered, eyeing the Harley that had pulled into their driveway, or more likely the leather-clad man that was getting off of it. 

“I told them he’d be overwhelmed by the big group, so Percy just came by himself.” Tina explained. Newt still seemed skeptical. “Oh, he’ll be fine,” she added crossly, swatting Newt’s arm. The young man in question was currently sitting on the loveseat in the living room, looking like he was trying to make himself look very small.

The doorbell caused all three of them to jump.

“Perce,” Tina said as she opened the door. 

“Afternoon, Sergeant,” he said with a nod of his head.

 

Credence couldn’t believe his eyes. When Tina had explained that there would be a member of a biker gang coming to protect him, he hadn’t been sure what that actually meant, but he certainly hadn’t imagined that it meant the devastatingly handsome, straight-backed, six-and-a-half-foot-tall gentleman that was Percival Graves.

“Are you Credence?” He asked, approaching the couch. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Graves,” said Credence.

“Ah, call me Percy,” the man said with a wave of his hand. “I hope Tina explained to you about the BAVDL?”

Credence nodded. The Biker Abuse Victim Defense League was an organization of volunteers who would come to the house of a victim of child abuse and serve as a barrier between the child and the threat of their abuser.

The social worker had told Credence that the way Mary Lou had treated him and his sisters was horrible and criminal. This didn’t surprise him, but he didn’t know why Ma still haunted him at night. He wasn’t ten; he understood what abuse was and that she had perpetrated it, but it was all over now, and Tina and Newt were nicer to him than he had ever deserved. 

This also didn’t explain why thinking about Gellert made his stomach drop. Gellert had never been cruel to him—only hit him once or twice, and always apologized afterwards. It was Credence’s fault that he couldn’t go further like Gellert had wanted, and that they had to keep it secret the whole time because of Mary Lou. If there had been any fault in their relationship, Credence knew that it was his.

“Well, it’s nice to meet ya,” Mr. Graves said kindly. “Figured you should know who you’re going to be calling for all your court dates and such.”

“Court dates?” Credence asked, surprised. Tina hadn’t mentioned that this whole agreement would ever leave the house.

“Yes, court dates. I can come with you, if you want me to, and be by the witness stand while you testify.”

Credence didn’t understand why this man would go to such lengths to help him—surely there were more pressing cases to attend to?—or why this organization had seen fit to send him their most gorgeous member. Regardless, Credence didn’t intend to continue living in sin. God was testing him, he was sure.

“You can call me any time you need me—and I mean any time,” Mr. Graves told him seriously. “Noon, middle of the night, three in the morning—doesn’t matter, I’ll come. If you want me to, I can bring my buddies, too. Do you have a cell phone?”

Credence shook his head. Mary Lou Barebone didn’t waste her money on the frivolous excesses of modernity.

“Well, I’ll leave my number by the landline then. Does that work?”

Credence nodded. “T-thank you, Mr. Graves,” he stuttered out, cursing his awkwardness.

“Percy,” he reminded Credence.

“Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. And call, please.” With that, Percy gathered his leather jacket and headed for the door.

“Thanks for this, Perce,” Tina told him in a low voice as she turned the knob.

“Least I can do, Sergeant,” He replied in kind, and the door closed behind him with a _click_.

 

Percy Graves was a goner. Tina had told him that the kid was 19—about twice the age of BAVDL’s usual clients, but the situation she’d outlined definitely merited intervention. The way he’d been all pulled up in on himself when he’d first introduced himself, and then slowly unfurled, bit by bit, as Percy made introductions, was both heartbreaking and incredible. He tried not to think about how gorgeous Credence’s eyes were, or the smooth, slender line of his neck—

Yup, he was a goner. Still, though, the last think the kid needed after everything he'd been through was Percy's stilted attempts at flirtation. He had a job to do, and Credence deserved much more than some biker guy ten years his senior.

 

The first call came around four days later, at eleven pm. Percy was at a bar with his buddies when his phone buzzed. 

“Duty calls,” he explained, getting up and sliding the bartender cash for his drink. He walked outside where it was quiet and answered the call. 

“P-Percy?” Came a shaking voice.

“I’m here, I’m on my way over right now,” he said soothingly as he readied his bike. He could hear Credence’s labored breathing on the other side.

“Credence, is someone at your house?” He asked. He wasn’t really in the mood for a fight, but if it meant getting a fast one in at this Mary Lou character’s nose, he didn’t think he’d mind too much.

“N-no, it’s just me. I t-think Newt and Tina are a-asleep.”

“Okay. I’m getting on the road now, I have to hang up. Hang in there.”

“Thank you,” Credence whispered.

“I’ll be ten minutes,” Percy said, and then hung up. He climbed on his Harley and revved the engine, blasting away from the bar. He made it to Newt and Tina’s place in seven flat.

He knocked gently on the door, not wanting to make too much noise. The sight that greeted him when it opened made him _really_ want to beat the shit out of Mary Lou Barebone. Credence had big dark circles under his eyes, which were red and streaked from crying. He was hunched painfully, and shrunk back from Percy’s gaze. It made him want to wrap the poor boy up and tuck him into bed somewhere safe.

“Hey there,” he said softly. Credence was silent. “Should I stay out here, or do you want me to come in?”

Credence nodded wordlessly and stepped to the side, letting Percy pass him. They stood awkwardly in the mudroom, drowning in silence, until Percy couldn't bear it anymore.

“How about some tea?’ He burst out.

Credence flinched a little. “Tea?”

“Tea. Tina has some nice blends in her cabinet if I remember correctly.” Percy made his way to the kitchen and rummaged through the pantry, emerging with a box. “How does jasmine green sound?

“Uh, fine, thank you.” Credence was hesitant, confused. His body language was still very much on the defensive. Percy ignored this for the time being, focusing on fiddling with the kettle. In no time, he’d poured two cups of tea and brought one over to Credence, who was hovering uncertainly in the doorway to the living room. They sat down on opposite sides. Credence was engrossed by the tea, and Percy tried not to think about how sweet the kid looked with his hands wrapped around the mug, inhaling steam, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

“You wanna talk about it?” Percy prompted.

Credence bit his lip. “I… not really.”

“Alright,” Percy answered lightly. 

“The tea is nice, though,” he added, and Percy could’ve sworn he saw a smile. There was a pause. “Could you… tell me about you? I just interrupted you in the middle of the night to make me tea and I hardly know you.” He was a bit red, but earnest nonetheless.

Percival chuckled. “Well, sure. I grew in Connecticut, dropped out when I was 16 to join the army, and served three tours in Iraq. I was honorably discharged when an IUD blew my leg up and gave me a nasty concussion… came home, recovered, got my bachelor’s degree, and started working an office job. I’ve been with BAVDL for four years now.”

“You’re a vet.” Credence said. It was more of a statement than a question, and Percy saw the recognition in his eyes. Sometimes a shared understanding of trauma could do a lot more than small talk.

“Yes.”

“And your leg…?” Credence asked. The genuine concern on his face touched Percy’s heart. 

“It’s fine now. It took a long time to heal, but I barely feel anything anymore.”

“I get phantom pain sometimes,” Credence muttered.

Percy knit his eyebrows. “Phantom pain?”

“That’s what the CPS lady called it. I can still—feel it, sometimes. On my back or on my arms.”

Percy tried not to react to that, allowing himself only a small grimace. 

“It’s not uncommon, I think. Sometimes people who’ve lost a limb even—“

Right then, Credence shifted a little bit, and his pajamas rode up on his arm, revealing an alarming flash of wet red on his pale arm.

“Credence? Are you alright?” Percy asked carefully. It would be too easy to act suddenly and scare him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“What—? Oh!” Credence looked almost as surprised as Percy when he followed his gaze to his arm, examining the small, crescent-shaped cuts.

“What happened?” Percy said.

“I’m not sure,” Credence murmured slowly.

“Let’s get that cleaned up, shall we?” Percy got up and approached him, holding out a questioning hand. “May I see?”

Credence jerked a little, and then laid his arm in Percy’s hand, which rather dwarfed it. 

“Were you having a nightmare before you called me?” he asked.

“I was,” Credence replied. “I guess I...“ he trailed off, brushing his fingers across the red marks.

“Yeah.” Percival frowned slightly at the arm, which was crossed with raised scars beneath the fresh, small cuts. “Let’s get some bandaids.”

“Oh—I don’t need to—it’ll be fine,” Credence stuttered, letting his arm fall back to his side.

“None of that now,” Percy grumbled with a shake of his head. “I’ll be right back.”

He rummaged through Newt and Tina’s admirably extensive first aid kit until he found some neosporin and bandaids. Credence was sitting just where he’d left him, perched on the edge of the seat like a bird.

“Here…” He said, setting the supplies down on the couch. He kneeled next to Credence, trying not to take up too much of his personal space. To his surprise, though, the boy leaned even closer as he began to apply the bandaids. Percy realized that he was probably unused to any kind of gentle contact, and he honestly wasn’t sure if this made him want to punch something or just hold the boy.

“There we go,” he murmured as he finished with the bandages. 

“Thank you,” Credence said for the second time. Silence fell. The tea was almost gone.

“Are you feeling better?” Percival said.

Credence nodded, shyly. His eyes were drooping, and he swayed forward slightly. Percy steadied him carefully by the shoulders, and chuckled. “Maybe we should get you to bed.”

“M’fine,” Credence muttered. 

“Alright,” Percy whispered. He sat on the couch next to Credence, and let the boy slump into him. He wasn’t too surprised to feel hot tears seeping through his sleeve. “Ohh, there now. Let it out.” he soothed, as sobs started to shake Credence’s narrow frame. A hand clutched at his shirt

“Do you want me to go?” he asked in a low voice. The only response was the tightening of the fist in his shirt. “Okay.”

They stayed like that for a long time. Credence smelled of the forest after rain and allspice, and his hair was soft to the touch.

 

When Tina found them on the couch together in the morning, slumped together at odd angles, she decide not to wake them.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a little jumpy I think, but that's what feels right so we're going with it. Hope ya liked it.  
> I'm also hugely indecisive as to whether Graves has Colin Farrell's Irish accent or a new york-ish one. It's leaning New York so far, but let me know what you think.


	3. A meal

It nearly made Credence panic when he woke up. He was tangled up in another man’s limbs, which was both familiar and foreign. Gellert had never stayed with him after they—well, _after_ , but he had been fond of giving long, tight hugs when they met up, in the dark of night. There had always been the smell of sweat and smoke, the grit of the alley. This was noticeably different, though, for a couple of reasons.

Percy Graves—and he realized it was him, after a brief spell of terror—smelled of leather and subtle cologne, with some warm undertone that Credence couldn’t place. The side of his face was buried in the man’s leather jacket, and their limbs were all twisted together. Percy’s heart thumped gently beneath his ear.

It occurred to Credence that he didn’t want to move. He was warm, and for once, he felt _safe._ He was pondering this when he heard footsteps in the room. His eyes flicked up for a moment to see Tina padding into the room quietly, collecting the empty tea mugs from the coffee table.

“Oh good, you’re up,” she said with a quiet smile. Credence felt his face redden.

“Good morning,” he mumbled. What were you supposed to say in this situation?

“I hope you slept well,” Tina continued, still sort of smirking.

“I did,” Credence admitted. 

“Well, I’m off to work, but there’s pancake batter on the counter. Newt’s out back with the turtles, I think.”

“Alright, thank you.” Credence murmured. 

“Enjoy,” Tina said, giving the pair a final fond look before she left.

Percy started to stir as she closed the door, and Credence took the opportunity to extricate himself and head for the kitchen. The least he could do was make breakfast.

A very sleepy Percy shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later, running his fingers through his hair in a fruitless attempt to make it sit in some sort of order.

“Are you making pancakes?” He asked, and _oh,_ if that gravelly morning growl didn’t make Credence's heart do all kinds of gymnastics.

“Yes,” he managed. Within the few days he’d been staying with Newt and Tina, he’d grown familiar with their kitchen. He insisting on cooking for them when they’d both had long days of hard work and he’d been lying around all day doing nothing. Tina had objected to this at first, but, to his great satisfaction, he’d persisted to a point where she’d grudgingly relented. He liked cooking, he really did, and having Percy to feed only made it better.

He took the last pancake off the pan and set the plate in front of Percy, who had taken a seat at the table. 

“You don’t have to—“ Percy began, and then cut himself off. “Thanks. It looks great.”

Credence finished cooking his own breakfast and joined Percy at the table.

“Credence—“

“I just—“ 

They both started at the same time. Credence flushed, ducking his chin. “You first.”

Percy nodded after a heartbeat. “… right. I wanted to make sure that all of that… that last night was okay. I know you weren’t thinking real logically, and sometimes—“ he trailed off, thinking. “Sometimes, we do things we'll regret after we've had time to think about it.”

Credence lowered his gaze. Of course, Percy regretted it all—why wouldn’t he? “I just wanted to say thank you. For coming to help, and… and for staying. People usually don’t stay.”

He realized the truth of the words as he spoke them.He didn’t dare look at Percy. He was being a sissy, that’s what Gellert would have called it. He wouldn’t even begin consider what his Ma would have said about the whole situation.

“Credence,” Percy said, his voice so tender that Credence looked up in surprise. “If sleeping together on the couch is what it takes to get you to sleep and wake up happy, I’ll do it every night, for as long as you want me to. If you don’t, that’s one thing, but, please, just know that much.”

Credence felt last night’s tears welling up in his eyes again. He just nodded, and let his eyes fall to the table again, focusing on his pancakes. They were good. He had to take it slow, though, he reminded himself—too much rich food really upset his stomach after years of bread and thin broth.

Percy finished quickly, and took his plate to the counter to rinse it. “You know, there’s another thing that BAVDL usually does that I've been meaning to tell you about,” he said.

“What is it?” Credence prompted, intrigued.

“Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”

 

Thirty minutes later, Percy was helping Credence was fitting a large helmet onto his head, with Newt looking apprehensively on.

“I know you know what you’re doing, but _do_ be careful, will you?” he said to the pair of them as Percy straddled his bike.

“Of course,” he said, seriously, and motioned for Credence to climb on behind him. He obliged.

“Hold on tight,” Percy said over his shoulder. Credence found himself wrapping his arms around Percy’s unforgivably narrow waist, feeling the soft, worn leather beneath his fingertips. He still smelled of that peculiar warmth, like cedar and sandalwood, that Credence decided was entirely the smell of _Percy._

Percy revved the engine, and they were off. It was a short ride from Tina and Newt’s place through Staten Island onto the Interstate, which was blissfully not deadlocked at 10am on a Tuesday. The feeling of asphalt peeling away before them like the Red Sea before Moses was terrifying, but the solidness of Percy was grounding as he clung to the man all the way across Brooklyn Bridge. Time passed like they were flies caught in tree sap.

His arms began to ache, though, eventually, and Percy pulled off the road when he noticed Credence sagging. 

“Sorry,” he said, as he took off his helmet. “I got a little carried away. We aren’t supposed to go more than five miles.”

Credence smiled. “It’s alright,” he replied shyly. 

“Well… um… ya hungry? We could get burgers, my treat” Percy said with a grin, gesturing to the hole-in-the-wall restaurant behind them.

“I couldn’t—“ Credence protested, not at all ready to impose on Percy more than he already had--Lord knew he'd already overstayed his allotted welcome.

“C’mon, I insist. I’ve been here, you’ll never have a better burger in your life.”

Credence gave in far too easily to the temptation. He let Percy lead him into the restaurant, and ordered the second decadent meal of the day. He had no idea what the words scrawled on the chalkboard menu above the counter meant, so he just copied Percy’s order.

“What do you want to drink?” Percy asked, brandishing two paper cups. 

“Um, I’m not sure?” Credence said honestly, staring at the soda fountain. He’d seen one before, of course, but never used one.

Percy gave him a thoughtful look. “You seem like a root beer kind of guy to me,” he decided. “Here. Try it.”

Credence obliged, taking a small sip, and it was delicious. Sweet and bubbly and tooth-rotting. He drank some more, and Percy grinned.

They sat down at a grungy wooden table with all kinds of obscenities carved into the surface and waited for their order to be called. Credence sat with his back to the wall, and took the opportunity to observe the various people who were filtering through. They were all dressed more or less like Percy was, with the exception of a rather nervous-looking businessman who was sitting in a corner, tapping determinedly at his phone while he devoured a chicken sandwich. 

The kitchen was quick, though, and they got their food in no time. Credence was more than slightly overwhelmed by the giant burger and monumental pile of fries that sat before him, but despite everything, he was hungry, and so he followed Percy’s example and just dug in.

It was heavenly. The meat was juicer than any he’d ever had in one of Ma’s stews, and far more flavorful. He didn’t even notice Percy watching him with a small, amused smile quirking one cheek until he was nearly finished.

“Have you ever had a burger before?” He asked bluntly.

“No,” Credence said with equal candor. He paused, regarding the meal ambivalently. “It was an ungodly indulgence, buying restaurant food.” Percy’s little smile disappeared for a moment, and Credence immediately regretted what he’d said. “I—sorry—” he stammered, trying to backtrack.

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Percy said softly, cutting him off. “A little indulgence now and then won’t hurt you.”

Percy Graves decided at that moment, particularly, that he would do whatever the hell he could to help this man discover all the little golden things in life that awful woman had taken away from him, duty be damned. 

“Well if it isn’t the indomitable Percival Graves!” came a sweet Brooklyn drawl from behind him. The accent and the look of pure open-mouthed awe on Credence’s face informed Percy that the woman behind him was Queenie Goldstein.

“Afternoon, Queenie,” he said, not bothering to turn his head.

“Who’s this you’ve got with you?” She inquired brightly. Credence seemed to positively shrink. 

“A friend,” Percy said carefully, glancing at Credence. “His name is Credence.”

“How d’ya do, Credence?” Queenie said, sticking her hand out for Credence to hesitantly shake.“I’m Queenie.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Credence replied hesitantly.

“I’m an old friend of Percival’s,” she explained, clairvoyant as usual, calming the anxiety clear in Credence’s withdrawn features.She had come around the table to shake hands, and Percy could see all of her studded leather glory. She was wearing her usual smoky eye, unruly blonde hair, and a particularly tight cutoff denim tank top.

“Something tells me you haven’t know Percival for too long, sweetie.” She said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. Credence nodded slowly. Percy didn’t like where this was going.

“Has he told you about the time he got caught pantsless outside my dorm in college because he’d been stood up by his date?”

Credence’s eyes went the size of saucers, and he shook his head. Queenie grinned, and started to relate the story, detail by excruciating detail. It was embarrassing, but the way Credence blushed and giggled made it too easy to ignore the humiliation. Queenie was many things, but mainly, she was a people person, and Percy should’ve figured that if anyone could bring Credence out of his shell it was her.

“I had been trying so hard to set Percival up with a guy—you know, it’s harder than it sounds—“

And right then, Percy saw Credence pull back. This confused him at first, but he quickly realized that it was the first time Queenie had referred to his “date” as a man. This was an entire can of worms that it hadn’t even occurred to him to address. Did he want to? Even if he did, now was certainly not the time. The kid had only been away from the source of his indoctrination for under a week.

“You know, Queenie, I think we need to be getting home,” he interrupted gently, pretending to check his watch.

“Oh, sure! Tell Tina I said hi.”

Graves tossed out his trash and guided Credence towards the door.

“How does she know Tina?” Credence asked, once they were outside. Percy didn’t fail to notice the fact that he’d avoided mentioning the whole gay thing, and decided that right then, that was a choice Credence got to make. 

“She’s her sister,” he said by way of explanation, leaving Credence rather shocked. "Besides, I honestly don't think there's a thing on God's green earth that Queenie doesn't know about."

 

They motored home, and the trip seemed far too short. Credence’s hair was gloriously windswept, enough so that it seemed almost defy the unhappy bowl cut that Mary Lou had given him.

“Percy,” he said breathlessly as they arrived at Newt and Tina’s, and it made Percy’s heart stutter just hearing him say his name like that, “thank you.” 

There was enough heartbreaking earnestness in his eyes to melt an iceberg. Percy found himself grinning like a moron. “Any time, Credence, any time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry lipstick lesbian biker!Queenie from my COLD DEAD HANDS


	4. Two steps forward, one step back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda plotty but whatever more fluff coming soon

The morning after he’d spent the day with Percy seemed almost bland. Not that Credence wasn’t grateful on a daily basis for what Newt and Tina had done for him, but it sort of felt like something was missing now. As amazing as it had been to spend time with Percy, Credence was a little worried about the direction of his own feelings. He thought about Percy almost constantly, and had to resist the urge to call him just to talk. It was the sort of thing that Ma would have given him trouble about, just like she had when he got too friendly with the neighbor’s boy when he was eight and had tried to beat it out of him. He’d never seen the boy again. This was why Gellert had been so easy—there was none of this pull, this attraction. It was too hard to ignore.

Tina and Newt sat down with him at lunch, and Credence could tell that they had something to talk to him about. He put down his sandwich, queasily wondering if he had to move out now. He knew he would outstay his welcome at some point.

“Credence, we have something we’d like to ask you,” Tina began.

_I know._ Credence nodded.

“We’ve been looking into some therapy options for you, and we figured we’d let you know what we’ve come up with.” She continued

Credence was confused. “Therapy? For what?” He'd had his share of broken bones and the like, sure, but they had all healed just fine.

“Therapy with a psychiatrist,” Newt clarified.

Credence’s frown deepened. “I’m not crazy.”

“We know you’re not crazy,” Tina said quickly. “Talking to a psychiatrist just might help you work through… stuff. They could help you with your nightmares.”

“I don’t… really, I don’t think I need to.” Credence didn’t want to be even more of a burden on them than he already was.

“You know, you might be surprised.” Newt said, cocking his head. “Sometimes, it can really help to talk everything through with someone impartial, who won't tell anyone else. Basically, you can talk about whatever you want, and the therapist will just try to help you find ways to cope with whatever bothers you.”

“I guess…” Credence acquiesced. Newt and Tina stared at him for a second, and then exchanged glances. It was official, then.

“Well, there’s a nice lady who was recommended by your CPS caseworker, shall we schedule a meeting with her later this week?” Tina asked him. Credence nodded for a second time.

“Alright, I’ll just call her now then.”

 

Three days passed in a blur, and before Credence knew it, he was in the back of the Subaru Forester on the way to the psychiatrist’s office. Her name was Alice Rosenberg, and she specialized in “depersonalization, depressive disorders, and abuse trauma in children and young adults.” Tina said she knew her, which made the visit only slightly less scary. 

The office helped, too, once the arrived. It was brightly lit and painted in blues and greens, with comfortably worn furniture in the waiting area. Tina and Newt waited with him, and said something to the receptionist.

After five or ten minutes, a small woman with glasses perched on her nose poked her head out of a door by the receptionist’s desk.

“Are you Credence Barebone?” she asked.

“Yes,” Credence said, his voice quieter than he’d anticipated.

“Nice to meet you, Credence. Now, it’s not required that your legal guardians come in with us for the first session, since you’re over 18, but they can if you want them to.”

Credence thought about what Newt had said about telling his story to an outsider, someone who wouldn’t overreact. “I think… I’ll go alone,” he said.

“Alright, wonderful. Come on back, let’s get you settled in.”

She strode busily into her office, heels clipping against the floor. Her shirt was slightly untucked on one side, and her hair bumped around nonchalantly as she busied herself with the door. She gave him a quick smile as he walked in. It was almost exactly like the waiting room , only with fewer couches. She gestured to a couch, and he perched on it hesitantly.

“Now, Credence, I just wanted to let you know a few things before we dive in. I’ve seen your case file, first of all, as part of the agreement with CPS. I also will be taking some notes, but anything that happens in these sessions is totally confidential unless you choose to disclose it. I can’t tell anyone anything, not even your guardians or the police. The other thing is that if we end up talking about something that makes you uncomfortable, I want you to recognize that and tell me so. The last thing I want to do is force you to discuss something you don’t want to. Sorry, I know that's a lot to throw at you right off the bat-- do you have any questions so far?”

This was all a bit overwhelming. Credence just shook his head; while their purpose was confusing, the rules made sense in and of themselves.

Alice Rosenberg smiled. “Alright, well, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

This was a daunting question. “I… guess… there isn’t much. I lived with my Ma until two weeks ago, when I moved to Newt and Tina’s house. I handed out pamphlets before, mostly. And read the Bible.”

“How do you like it, living with Tina and Newt now?”

“It’s nice,” he said, wincing as an awkward silence followed.

 

“I don’t think I’m good at it,” he said as they drove home, his insides still twisted up from the session. She hated him, he was sure of it. 

“Don’t worry about it, you’re not _bad_ at it, you’re just not used to talking about that stuff.” Tina pointed out.

That sort of made sense. There had been a lot more people asking him how he felt or what he wanted in the past few weeks, and he hadn't entirely gotten used to it yet.

That night, he called Percy. 

“Hey, kid. You need me to come over?” He said by way of greeting.

“No… thanks. I just… I went to a psychiatrist today.” He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted Percy to say.

“Oh, hey, that’s great. How’d you like it?”

“I’m not sure,” he said truthfully.

“That’s understandable. The first time I went to a shrink, I was hopeless…” Percy chuckled a little.

“Wait, you’ve seen a therapist?”

“Mhm. It’s more common than you’d think, really. They sent me to one at the VA after I was discharged for the PTSD.”  Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Credence recalled. That one had been in the pamphlet the case worker had given him. Percy must have seen his share of combat. 

“Did it help?” He asked, almost at a whisper.

“Y’know, I think it did. Didn’t seem like it at the time, but it did in the long run.” Credence was silent for a long moment. “Hey, kid?”  
“Sorry,” Credence murmured, startled out of his thoughts.

“Did that help?” Percy asked, earnest as ever. 

Credence’s heart melted a little bit. “Yeah. Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Thank you,” Credence repeated, and the line clicked off.

He probably should have been sleeping or something, but he sat on the couch for quite a while, thinking. In the end, his muscles went kind of rigid from the _wrongness_ of it all—staying up late, getting lost in his own thoughts, not being in bed—and he felt like he couldn’t get up if he tried. In the end, he just fell asleep there, slumped agains the armrest.


	5. Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: use of homophobic slur by Credence, and general internalized homophobia. poor kid.

Nightmares plagued him that night. This wasn't abnormal, but they were far worse than usual. This time, Gellert took center stage. He hit Credence, over and over again, but Credence couldn't feel anything. He awoke in a cold sweat, feeling rather like he hadn't slept at all. 

Newt found him in the armchair the next morning, and the sight of him was inexplicably terrifying. He was pretty sure that Newt wouldn't get angry at him, but every muscle memory in his body was telling him otherwise. His vision blurred, and he felt his breath coming in short gasps. 

"Credence," Newt murmured. Was he concerned? Irritated? "It's all right, Credence. I just want you to breathe with me. In, two, three, four... out, two, three, four..."

Credence tried, he really did, but there wasn't enough air to fill his lungs, and his chest clenched like a vice."I''m sorry," he choked out. "S-sorry."

"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay. Just breathe."

Newt didn't leave, and he didn't seem to be angry. Credence tried over and over again to breathe, feeling like the whole earth was pressing down on his chest. In time, though, the weight lightened a bit and his vision started to swim back into clarity. Newt was kneeling in front of him, counting breaths. He stopped when he noticed Credence's eyes. 

"Are you back with me?" Newt asked, studying him. 

Credence nodded hesitantly. "Sorry," he said, the response falling automatically from his lips. 

Newt just shook his head. "Don't be. Has this happened before?"

"Yes," Credence answered.

"Mostly here, or before?" 

".... before." Ma used to think that the episodes were signs of his being afflicted by the devil, and that diagnosis had only one treatment in her house. 

"Well, it's called a panic attack," Newt explained easily. "It's a pretty common response to trauma, both past and present." He glanced up at Credence, and then down at his lap, lips quirking. "I... It always helps me to know this stuff, but that doesn't mean that it helps you too, I shouldn't assume. Tell me if I'm making things worse."

"No, you're not... thank you." Hearing Newt talk was kind of calming anyway, and hearing some medical reason for what his body was doing helped it seem more legitimate, less scary. 

"Has it happened while you were here, though?" Newt continued. 

Credence nodded. He'd had an-- an attack the first night, when he'd been shown to his room. And then maybe again a little the morning right before he met Percy for the first time. 

"Hm," Newt said. “You know, we can talk to Alice about this. She can help you deal with it.”

“I—I guess.” Credence still couldn’t see how this therapy business would end up helping him, but he remembered what Percy had said the night before, and it gave him some hope.

“In the meantime, though, breakfast.”

While Newt scrambled eggs, Credence sat at the table and thought. He could already feel the familiar fatigue that comes from bad sleep settling over him. The gentle _thunk_ of a plate being set down in front of him gave him a start.

“Are you feeling all right?” Newt asked around a mouthful of eggs.

“Yes,” Credence replied automatically.

“Are you sure?” Newt raised an eyebrow. “You must have had a long night.”

“I am a little tired,” Credence admitted with a wince.

“You should take a little nap after breakfast.” Newt said, like the hopeless mother hen that he was.

“In the middle of the day?” Credence wondered aloud.

“Well, sure.”

“You can do that?”

Newt took a little breath that told Credence that this was one of the things that he should have known. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry if there’s nothing to apologize for,” Newt said strictly, but not unkindly. “You were uninformed, and that’s not a crime. You eat your eggs, and then go to bed.”

“Okay,” Credence said softly, finding that he didn’t really mind Newt’s hovering. It was nice, in an odd sort of way.

He did as he was asked once the dishes were cleaned, but quickly found that even with the blinds all the way drawn and the door closed, it was desperately strange to try and sleep in the daytime. His body absolutely rejected the idea, no matter how hard his brain tried to coax it. He didn’t want to disappoint Newt, though, and he really was tired enough for it to feel nice just to lie down. This, of course, was a foreign concept, but he thought he might be able to learn to live with it. 

About an hour in, he heard a soft knock on his door. Startled, he jumped up, heart pumping, and sat up straight on the edge of his bed. 

“Come in?” He managed.

“I hope you don’t mind, Credence,” came Newt’s voice, “But I called Percy over.”

“Oh! No, no I don’t.” Credence said, stumbling to his feet and pulling his shirt straight. He opened the door to find Newt dressed in a colorful wool overcoat and pink earmuffs. 

“I’m going on some errands,” he explained, “and it didn’t seem like the kind of day where you’d want to be alone.”

Credence didn’t quite know what to say to that. “Thank you,” he murmured after a while.

Newt smiled. “Alright, I’m off, then. Percy’s in the kitchen.” And he was gone.

Credence took a few seconds to collect himself before he padded out of the room. Trying to sleep was definitely futile now.

Percy was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea steaming by his elbow. He was wearing a green shirt under his jacket. Green suited him, Credence noted, and then quickly shook the notion from his head. 

“Hey there, kid. Want some tea? This oolong is really nice.”

“Yes, please.” Tea, as Credence had discovered, settled his nerves better than any of the medicine Tina had given him.

Percival got up and poured another mug out of the still-boiling kettle, setting it next to Credence with the handle turned inwards. “How’s it going?” he asked as he sat back down.

“I’m alright,” Credence replied automatically.

Percy raised his eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Credence stared at his tea, watching the little bits of leaves floating around near the bottom.

“Newt mentioned you had a nightmare,” Percy prompted, once it was clear that Credence wasn’t going to extrapolate.

Credence just nodded. He wasn’t sure where Percy was going with this, but he wasn’t really pressing. He just turned back to the newspaper and sipped his tea.

“Do you get those a lot?” Percy continued, still looking at the paper.

“I guess… it’s a little stupid. Since I’m not there anymore.”

Percy raised his eyebrows at that. “It’s not stupid. You lived in that house for almost your entire life, of course the trauma is still going to affect you, much as it might suck.”

Credence huffed. “You sound like my therapist.”

“Your therapist sounds smart."

Credence snorted, more loudly than he’d intended to, and immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. 

“I’m sor—” he started to apologize, but Percy was just laughing. It wasn’t a mean laugh either, and Credence slowly lowered his hand. Gellert used to hate it when he got cheeky. 

Once he’d quieted down, Percy looked at him with a strange but not unkind look.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what was the nightmare about? You don’t have to answer,” he amended quickly.

Credence hesitated. He’d never so much as mentioned Gellert to anyone, ever, and yet he could not possibly bring himself to lie to Percy. If there really was some aspect of his past that had changed him forever, it was his Ma’s fervent hatred of lies. Besides, Percy had done so much for him… and he had mentioned having a boyfriend, that one time. It was incredibly strange to think of Percy as that sort of person—maybe it had been an ill-timed joke?—especially since he seemed so… well, _good_. There was no way he could be a faggot. Ma wouldn’t have liked him, perhaps, but Credence knew now that her judgement of personality wasn’t great. He trusted Percy. 

“It was about—a man.” He said suddenly, breaking the silence. Percy looked up, startled, and a little bit of his tea splashed onto the newspaper. He wiped it up with his cuff and stared at Credence attentively.

“Was it someone you know?” he said.

“Yes,” now that Credence had decided to go forward, everything seemed to flow like a river through a broken dam. “Gellert. I knew him before, when I lived with Ma. He cared for me. We—we were—together.” At that, Credence’s stomach clenches, and he chances a glance up at Percy. The latter looks more surprised than angry, and the concern in his eyes sparks the tiniest hope in Credence that maybe, just maybe, he could finish telling this story.

“Did your mother know?” Percy murmured.

Credence shook his head. “She would have beat me bloody. I know I’ll burn in hell for it anyway, but I was too cowardly to confess to her.”

He heard Percy’s sharp intake of breath at that, and he winced. 

“Why are you going to hell?” Percy asked slowly.

“For being a faggot,” Credence replied, the response ingrained and immediate. That really made Percy flinch, and a tide of anxiety immediately washed up like stomach in his acid. He'd done it again, said something that upset Percy, after all he'd done for him, how stupid could he be-- 

“Credence?” said a gruff voice. There were the touches of fingers on the back of his hand, which he automatically jerked away from. Percival sat in front of him, looking worried. Were there tears on his cheeks?

“Are you back with me?” Percy murmured. He had definitely been crying. His eyes were red.

“Yeah,” Credence choked out.

“Can I touch your hand?” Percy continued, each word softer than the last.

Credence jerked his head, not wanting to lose the contact that he knew would be fleeting.

“Credence, please listen to me. I know you’ve been very religious for a very long time, but there is nothing, _nothing_ wrong with liking men. I’m incredibly proud of you for telling me.”

And just like that, Credence was weeping like a child. He knew, really, that Percy must be wrong, but for the moment, the sweet relief of acceptance swept over him like a blessing. His head seemed to fall of its own accord into Percy’s chest, into arms that gently encircled him. The tears refused to cease.

“You’re alright, kid, you’re alright.” Percival whispered into his hair.

Eventually, though, the tears did start to dry, and Percy seemed to notice. The hand that had been rhythmically stroking down his back slowed.

“Here…” Percy muttered, pulling Credence to his feet. “I want to show you something.” He bent down in front of a bookshelf and rummaged through it, finally pulling out a thick tome with a rainbow printed on the front. “Glad Tina didn’t toss this one. It was a gag gift a few years back.”

He sat down right next to Credence, and showed him page after page of successful, important, intelligent men who were homosexual. Credence felt like he was walking in a dream. 

Percy chuckled when Credence’s fingers lingered on the page about a poet named Oscar Wilde. 

“Reminds me a bit of you,” Percy commented casually. “Except for the fact that Wilde was famously promiscuous. Legend has it the man slept with half of Britain in his time.”

Credence quickly realized what that meant and felt himself blush furiously. Percy just chuckled gently. “They’re not all like that, though. Point being, history is full of guys like you and me. It’s natural. Ain’t nothing wrong with it.”

Credence curled in on himself a little bit, unsure. Percy was so certain, but he couldn’t possibly see how what had happened between him and Gellert could be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of now this is unedited because it's too late and I'm tired. Hope it's alright anyway. Angst!


	6. Two steps back, one step forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence realizes one thing and is reminded unhappily of another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of abuse, panic attacks. there's h/c at the end but overall not a very happy chapter

Credence found himself dreading the weekly visits to Alice. She was never mean, or demanding, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was failing her in some way. His nightmares hadn’t stopped, and in all honesty, his panic attacks had only gotten worse. His reality seemed so separate from the big, cushy words that Alice liked to use—self-care, safe spaces, mindfulness, deep breathing.

“How are you today, Credence?” She asked cheerfully as he perch on her couch.

“I’m alright,” he murmured. Unhappy as he was, he still had no stomach for being impolite.

After they got pleasantries out of the way, Alice settled in to ask about the serious stuff.

“Have you seen Percival lately?” She asked. 

This startled Credence. He honestly couldn't remember if he'd ever mentioned Percy, though he must have in passing.

“Yes,” he answered. “He visited the other day.”

“What did you do, when he visited?”

“Well… we made cookies, and tea, as usual, and he showed me a TV show he likes. Cake Wars, or something like that.” Credence answered very carefully, unsure as to what Alice was trying to get out of him. He knew that some of Tina’s superiors hadn’t been thrilled about their arrangement with Percy, and hoped desperately that she wasn’t trying to get rid of him.

“I’m only asking because you mention him so much, and yet I feel like we never talk about the two of you,” Alice clarified, seeing the look on Credence’s face.

“Oh,” he said, going pink. Did he really? “He’s wonderful. He’s really helped me with some things…” 

“Like what?”

“Um. I call him if I’m having a bad night, and he helps me sleep. Or he’ll come stay outside the door, sometimes.”

Alice caught his eyes before going back to her writing pad. “Anything else?” she asked lightly.

“He—well, um—he’s a homosexual.” Credence chokes out. Percy had told him that was a better word for it, since Credence didn’t quite feel right saying _gay_. 

“Oh?” If Alice was shocked or worried, she didn’t look it.

“He… talked to me about it. I might… I might be homosexual, too.” That was the first time Credence had ever said those words aloud, in that order, and something seemed to clench firm in his chest. It didn’t matter how she felt about this, regardless of what she did, he was being truthful to himself. His secret was out now, he had nothing to hide—

“Credence? Credence, it’s alright, thank you so much for sharing that. It was very brave of you.”

Credence just shook his head, rocking a little from side to side.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being homosexual, it’s just a part of you, as much as your favorite color or your love of chocolate.”

Credence squeezed his eyes shut. “Leviticus 20:13. If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall be put to death, their blood is upon them. Romans 1:27. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error. Jude 1:7 Sodom and Gomorrah—“ Credence stopped himself, his head in his hands. He knew most of the New Testament by heart, and these particular verses could practically flow off his tongue, heavier than lead. Ma had made sure he knew them well.

“Credence, I know you put a lot in store by the Bible. I think, then, you know the story of the Prodigal son? Or John 8:7?”

“Yes. The Lord Jesus Christ came to earth to remind Christians to forgive our sins…”

“What, I’m saying, Credence,” Alice said gently, “is that you ought to think about forgiving yourself. We know now, as the men who transcribed the Bible certainly didn’t, that homosexuality is an inborn part of a person’s nature.”

By the time the session was over, Credence had cried so much he felt like a wrung-out towel. In a good way, though. He was quiet in the car on the way back, but decided that he really needed a cup of coconut oolong and Percy. He texted to make sure, and received a hearty “hope you're ready for more Cake Wars” by way of response. They’d made a habit of seeing each other after Credence’s therapy sessions, anyway.

The oolong was steeping, and Newt was out back handling something with Gryphon—he had an infection in his hoof, poor thing. The tea didn’t quite fill up the cold emptiness that always seemed to settle in Credence’s stomach after talking for so long. Percy couldn’t be far away, though, and Credence selfishly hoped that they might have a couple hours together before dinnertime.

Finally, there were three harsh knocks on the door. Credence sprang up, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. This was a odd, Percy always used the doorbell—

It wasn’t Percy. The man standing on the stoop, a bouquet of purple mountain laurel and lobelia in one hand and blonde hair neatly coiffed, was Gellert Grindelwald.

Credence felt his breath pulled from his lungs.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Gellert drawled, his German accent thick as ever.

He was going to be furious when Percy showed up. Credence had no idea how he’d even found Tina and Newt’s place—had he walked around to every door in the neighborhood, asking? Had he broken into the case files somehow?

“What, you’re not going to let me come in?” Gellert said, feigning hurt. “You didn’t even tell me you were moving. We talked about this.”

Credence winced. They had— _you don’t get to go anywhere without telling me, you understand? I OWN you—_

“Someone’s coming over. You shouldn’t be here.” He said. He really didn’t want to deal with this now, not when things had been starting to go so well.

“Sweetie, I thought you understood.” Gellert murmured, stepping into Credence’s space. His eyes had a hard look to them, and though he didn’t have any height on Credence, Credence felt himself shrinking until he was a tiny ant, and Gellert was a giant. “You are nothing without me. I’ve done so much for you, and this is the thanks I get.”

Credence wanted to close his eyes, pretend he was gone, but the blow always felt worse when he didn’t see it coming. No matter. The slap stung like fire, right across his cheek, and Credence could tell that the great big ring he always wore had drawn blood. Gellert to close a hand around his wrist, tugging him towards that ugly black sedan he always drove. Credence pulled back, but he had always been weaker. Too weak to fight him off, to weak to stop him from—

Suddenly, the sound of an engine roaring and tires squeaking pierced the fog in Credence’s head.

“What the HELL do you think you’re doing?” A rough voice barked from their left. _Percy?_ “Get away from him, now, or I swear to God you will regret it.”

Credence felt Gellert’s grip falter, and then disappear. He immediately cradled his wrist, which was throbbing. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Gellert snapped. Percy  put himself squarely between the two, backing Gellert into the side of his car. 

“I don’t think it matters, sonny,” he growled. “Now get in your piece of shit car and make sure I never see your face here again. You touch him, you _die._ ”

Credence stood frozen to the spot as Gellert weighed his options, and then stalked back to the sedan and drove away. The flowers lay discarded on the side of the road.

 

“Credence,” Percy said in a low voice, the gentle murmur such a contrast to his anger. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

Credence was still rooted to the spot, trembling slightly. “I’m f-fine,” he managed, shaking his head slightly and examining his arm.

“Can I touch you?” Percy asked seriously, stepping closer.

Credence nodded, and he felt a broad hand settle lightly above the small of his back, grounding him.

“We should go inside and clean your face. Maybe some ice for the wrist.”

He nodded again, and let Percy lead him back inside, closing the door soundly behind them.

“Tina and Newt are out back,” Credence whispered. Percy just hummed, and settled him on the edge of the toilet. It gave him a sense of deja vu, sitting there and letting Percy tend to his wounds.

“Was that the guy from your nightmares?” Percy asked after a little while, when he was putting the cotton balls away. Credence lowered his eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What are you sorry for?” Percy replied, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I… that you had to see that. What I let him do.”

“Credence...” Percy mumbled sadly, kneeling down next to him and enveloping him in a hug. “Don’t you ever think that what he did to you was anyone’s fault but his. He’s a monster, and it’s not your fault that he went after you.”

“I should have known!” Credence said sharply, twisting a little. Percy let his arms fall. “I shouldn’t have just sat there and—and let him! You saw—he almost—“

A wet sob shook his shoulders, and his breathing got more and more uneven. The noise suddenly disappeared entirely, and Percy swallowed hard. This tended to happen when he had a bad panic attack; he’d just go totally silent and curl up into a ball, hyperventilating. Percy was pretty sure it was a defense mechanism. He lowered his hands over Credence’s where they clutched at his legs, and rubbed them gently. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright, just breathe—in, and out, in, and out…”

When Credence’s limbs finally started to unfurl, he leaned forward and clutched at Percy’s shirt. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and wrecked. 

“Bed?” Percy asked.

“Bed.”Credence sighed.

Percy gave into his impulse and scooped Credence up in his arms. Despite his height, Credence seemed so small in that moment. He’d put on some weight since moving in with Newt and Tina, but was still lanky and light.

They settled on Credence’s bed, with Percy perched on the edge and Credence curling into him. Percy stroked his hair slowly, feeling his breathing slow as he fell asleep.


	7. Coming to light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dealing with the fallout of last chapter. Sorry that took so long!

The back door opened, and Percy knew that he had to tell Newt and Tina. He glanced at Credence, who was soundly asleep on his bed, his face soft but tired. Reluctantly, he eased himself up and out the door, letting it click shut softly behind him. 

Tina was slumped on the couch in her usual dramatic post-work stupor. She didn’t seem surprised to see Percy—he was around often enough—but something about the look on his face must’ve tipped her off. She was a cop, after all. Had to have an instinct for this kind of thing.

“What happened, Percy? Is he okay?”

Percy put what he hoped was a reassuring smile on his face. “He is now.” And trying to spare any unnecessary details, he retold their encounter with the boy who had accosted Credence. Tina’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

“I can’t believe—how did he find him _here?_ Why didn’t he tell us? I need to file a report, he needs to talk to someone—“

“Whoa, there, take it down a notch. I’m not saying he shouldn’t have told us, but there was a reason he didn’t. He wasn’t ready.”

Tina sighed. “I’m mainly worried about this who this guy is and how we can charge him with assault and battery. You said they knew each other?”

“Yeah… bad memories. I didn’t get much more out of him, not even a name.”

“We have to talk to him,” Tina said, starting to get up.

“Aw, for God’s sake, let him sleep. It can wait.” Percy protested.

Tina squinted at him. “Alright, but you crash on that couch tonight. I need all my witnesses in one place.”

Percy smirked. “If it makes you feel better, boss.”

“Whatever, chump.” 

“Ah, Percy!” Newt said congenially as he came inside, arms full of bunches of greens. “Hope you like spinach and arugula. My garden has been going to town these last couple days.”

They chatted a little more as Newt set about washing the salad and mixing some vinaigrette. Between the two of them, Newt was definitely the better cook, and it didn’t hurt that he had a huge green thumb that yielded a near-constant supply of organic fruits and vegetables. Percy was shooed out of the kitchen and ended up at his usual haunt at the table, nursing some dajeerling and staring at the day’s newspaper without reading it.

Credence came in some time later, and Percy could hear his socked feet pause in the doorway. He turned around just in time to see a deer-in-the-headlights look flash across his face. 

 

As soon as Credence walked into the dining room, he felt Newt and Tina’s eyes snap over to him, lingering far longer than they normally would have. Percy was slower on the uptake, but he still glanced over with something like concern. They knew. Had Percy told them already? Suddenly, Credence couldn’t bear to stay in the room and face their criticism. He was wrong, he was disgusting, there was no chance they would let him stay there after they found out—

He felt his legs stumbling backwards, propelling him back into his room. He had to pack, he’d be leaving—he should just go on his own, before they had to kick him out—he had been enough of a nuisance to begin with, they certainly wouldn’t put up with him now.

Through the haze of everything, he heard someone calling his name. Too late. It was too late…

“Credence!” Percy panted from the doorway of the bedroom. Strong arms encircled him from behind, and he froze. He could suddenly _feel_ Gellert behind him, pressing him into the wall, the bed, the floor. He couldn’t stop him, only lie back and hope it was short this time. Was Ma out? She mustn’t know, that he’d tempted Gel into sin in the most awful way.

“Credence, come on, hey there.” 

It was a woman’s voice?

“Breathe for me Credence, just breathe.”

It was Tina, he saw after he blinked a few times. Brown hair hovering in front of his face.

Oh.

“Credence, are you with us?” Came Newt’s soft tenor. Credence found it within himself to nod.

Things seemed fuzzy, and his blood was still pounding in his ears. 

“Where’s… Percy?” He managed. If he was going to have to leave, he wanted to see Percy one last time.

“He’s just outside.”

“I’m sorry,” Credence murmured, pressing himself back into the mattress behind him. The floor, he was sitting on the floor, by the bed. “I’m sorry.”

Tina crouched down further, coming to Credence’s eye level. “You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all, ya hear?”

“He told you,” Credence said helplessly, her words not quite processing.

“He did,” Tina replied plainly. “I’m sorry we didn’t know earlier. You never have to see him again, I’ll swear you that.”

Credence couldn’t find words. Everything seemed so wrong, and he felt so _exposed_. He thought back to Alice that morning, which seems like eons ago— _you ought to think about forgiving yourself—_ and took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. What do we do now?”

He felt Tina breathe a sigh of relief. She took out her phone, and started tapping. “Well, we’ll bring charges against him. You know his full name, right? We can start there.”

“It’s Gellert… Gellert Grindelwald.” 

Tina snorted slightly. “Jesus, hang on, let me spell that out. What is he, French?”

Credence felt his lips quirk up. “German.”

“Listen,” Newt said from across the room. “Why don’t we do this after dinner? I’d hate to let the salad wilt.”

Tina turned to Credence.

“Uh, alright.” He agreed, remembering slowly that he was allowed to make that kind of decision now. He followed Tina and Newt out into the hallway, his skin still buzzing with adrenaline.

Percy was indeed standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall and picking at his jacket distractedly. He looked up as the door closed behind Credence.

“I, ah—“ he looked embarrassed, even apologetic. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you. Stupid move. Should’ve known better. If you want me to go I’ll, just…” he gestured vaguely to the outside.

“No!” Credence said, taken off guard. “I mean, you should stay. Not your fault.”

“If you want me to.” He replied gently, pushing himself upright and cocking his head towards the kitchen. “It was my fault, though. I take responsibility for that.”

Credence shook his head vehemently. “Please, don’t… I think I'd know.”

Percy gave him a half smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. “I guess so. Listen, just do one thing for me though, will you?”

Credence glanced at him sideways. “…sure?”

“Have you ever heard of safewords?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Basically, it’s any word that two people agree on that means something bad’s going on. Like, if I was standing to close to you, or something, and you said it, I’d fuck off right then and there, just like that. No hassle. So I want you to pick one, for the two of us.”

“Like a code word.” Credence said.

“Well, yeah.”

Credence considered this. His mind was blank. “How about…” he glanced out the back window at the yard. “Apple tree?”

Percy smiled. “Okay, apple tree it is. Don’t be afraid to use it, mind you. Dinner?”

Credence smiled back. “Dinner.”

…

Tina sat Credence down after they ate, and with Percy’s moral support, he managed to give her a decent summary of everything that had happened between him and Gellert. Afterwards, he was perfectly exhausted, and Newt immediately suggested that he take a shower and go straight to bed. He did exactly that.

No one noticed the black sedan that had parked on the end of the street, and showed no signs of leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge thank-you to everyone for leaving such wonderful comments, they really keep me going!


	8. Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoops

Percy knocked back a shot of whiskey, still laughing.

“And I was screaming, I mean _screaming—_ what the fuck do you think you’re doing?—and ooh you should have seen his face! He was pale as a sheet!” Queenie’s fishnet-stockinged legs were splayed elegantly across Sera's lap as she held court, taking generous swigs out of her Fat Tire and rustling her hair out of her eyes. It had been a fair while since he’d just gone and gotten drinks with the rest of his buddies, and it was so nice to see them again. Abernathy had _finally_ shaved his horrific goatee, whereas Mendez had gone and grown one, but to his credit, it kinda looked good on him. Queenie, of course, took the cake in that department. Sera was a lucky lady.

“Percy, earth to Percy.”

“What?” He blinked. 

Queenie rolled her eyes. “I was _saying_ , how are things going with that boy of yours?”

“He’s not my boy, you fucking heathen.” Percy grumbled. “ _Credence_ is doing okay. He’s been better. Some jackass ex-boyfriend showed up and nearly kidnapped him, I only just got there in time.”

“How very gallant,” Queenie cooed.

Percy set his glass down a little more forcefully than necessary. “Get fucked, dear. He’s had a hard enough time already, without some whisky-drinking man ten years older than him waltzing in and taking over his life."

"Perce, darling, you do know that he's absolutely head over heels for you.” Queenie replied.

"Queenie! For the love of God! We haven't even kissed."

“Sure,” she snorted. “You’ll get there.”

“We all know you, Perce, you old tiger. Go get ‘em.” Abernathy added chummily, clinking his beer against Percy's abandoned shot glass.

“I had to sign a contract, you know,” Percy grumbled.

Queenie blinked innocently. “Right… how old is he? Nineteen?”

“Yeah. What’s your point?”

“Legal,” Sera muttered.

“Jesus fucking christ.” 

Right about then, Percy’s phone started buzzing in his pocket. He turned away form the group and fished it out—it was Credence. 

“Hey, kid. What’s up?”

He couldn’t make out anything on the other end, just some muffled scratching and—a long, shaky sigh? 

“Credence, are you alright? Did something happen?”

He heard a much more definite whimper. “apple—apple tree. Percy, please—“ and then cut off with a sharp thump.

He was out of his chair in a moment. 

“I’m coming over, right now. If you don’t want me to, just say, but I’m coming.” He growled, tossing his jacket back on and pushing out the door. The line was dead.

“Perce! Hang on!” Queenie called after him breathlessly. She and the rest of the gang caught up with him by the bikes. “Is it your boy?”

“He’s in trouble. I gotta go.” Percy managed as he strapped on his helmet.

“Not so fast, big boy,” Abernathy said. “We’re coming with.”

“What if it’s his ex?” Sera pointed out. Percy’s blood ran cold. She was right, it very well could be. That _bastard._

Mendez clapped him on the shoulder. "You're gonna need backup, Sarge."

_“_ Alright, let’s go.”

 

 

Credence kicked the phone under his bed, shaking. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” came Gellert’s singsong voice from the lounge. “I know you’re in here, my sweet.”

He heard the _thump_ of Newt’s unconscious body being kicked out of the way.

“You told them about us, didn’t you, you naughty little boy. Nasty little traitor. You forgot that you belong to me. Come out, little princess, and we can run away together. Just like I promised.

Credence closed his eyes and tried to fold himself smaller between the master bed and the wall. He had tried the window, but it wouldn’t open, and if he broke it, Gellert would just follow the noise and he wouldn’t be able to get away, and Newt and Tina would hate him for breaking their window, and he couldn’t do it, he was such a fucking _coward—_

“There’s no big biker guy here to save you now, princess. Did you really think he cared about you like I do?”

Credence rocked back and forth, trying to block out the words. He felt twelve years old again, hearing Ma’s shrill voice calling up the stairs of the church as he hid in the broom closet. Twelve, fifteen, eighteen—the only thing that was different was that he just stopped hiding after a while. Better to just get it over with. Gellert banged theatrically on the bedroom door. This was just the way things were, Credence acknowledged forlornly. Maybe if he wasn’t so disgustingly weak, he would have been able to be honest with Percy, and none of this would have happened. He deserved Gellert.

“…I think I’ll go for your little biker friend after this, hmm? We can't have anyone else touching you now, can we…”

“NO!” Credence cried, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

“Ah, so there you are! Foolish little boy…”

He was _not_ going to get Percy, too. Gellert was struggling with the lock on the door, and Credence glanced around himself for options. There was a long, heavy metal flashlight leaning against the bedframe—perfect. He took a deep breath, crept over to the door, counted to three under his breath, and pulled it open, swinging the flashlight with all his might. 

Gellert ducked, but his slimy face looked more worried than Credence was used to seeing it. This was pleasant.

“My, getting feisty, are we? I like it.” He tried to laugh, but it died as he jumped to the side to avoid the flashlight.

“Get _out_ of my house,” Credence growled, pulling himself up to his full height. He was taller than Gellert. He didn’t remember being taller than Gellert.

Even as he stumbled backwards down the hallway, Gellert was smirking. “Oh, your house now, is it? I thought you were staying here on charity. Feeding off of some good people like a parasite.”

“Get out!” 

“Credence—“ he ducked again “Darling, you and I are just alike. We’re bad, bad people. We don’t deserve people like this, people like your Percy—“

Credence felt unbidden tears spill out of his eyes. “OUT!” he managed, pointing the flashlight at Gellert’s chest in what he hoped was a threatening manner.

Gellert just laughed, stopping cold in the middle of the room. “You are such an idiot. Do you really think I wouldn’t come prepared?”

And as Credence watched in horror, he reached behind his back and pulled out his pride and joy--a Glock G42.

“Drop the fucking flashlight,” he said, almost lazily. Credence, shaking, did exactly that. “Now, you are going to walk in front of me, directly to my car, and get in. Keep your hands where I can see them. No funny business, got it?”

“Got it,” Credence whispered. His mind was totally, horrifyingly empty. He turned around, watched Gellert open the door, and walked through it. There was a ringing in his ears. It sounded almost like a roaring… like… tires, pulling across a bumpy road.

“ _Stop right there!_ ” Someone yelled. Was he dreaming?

He looked up, and there was a figure in black, sprinting towards them at high speed. It was Percy.

Everything suddenly fell back into focus. Queenie was there too, and a few others he didn’t recognize. Could he make run for it?

And then, he felt something cold and hard press against the side of his head. Percy skidded to a halt. Credence closed his eyes and tried to swallow the urge to vomit.

“Get any closer and I’ll shoot him!” Gellert snarled, sounding a little haggard.

Credence stared at Percival. He looked agonized.

_Do it,_ Credence mouthed at him. _I’ll duck._ Percy just shook his head minutely. Credence just stared at him pleadingly. If Gellert got out of this, one way or another, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live with himself.

Before either of them could do anything, though, a shot rang out. Credence crumpled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah yeah i know i know i just couldn't resist the cliffhanger. Hang on in there, I won't leave the rest to chance for long :)


	9. A few collisions

Credence crumpled, terror overcoming his legs, but to his surprise, it was Gellert who let out an anguished scream. Moments later, Credence smelled Percy’s cologne and leather jacket and felt gentle hands on his arms, and he realized that he hadn’t been hit. There was blood, though, blood dripping onto the asphalt from the wound in Gellert’s arm.

“What did you do?” Credence heard himself murmur.

“Shot the bastard,” came a matter-of-fact voice from behind him. He whipped around, nearly slamming Percy’s shoulder.

Percy sighed. “Thank God for Queenie Goldstein.”

“I’ll call Tina, she’ll be here in an instant. You two go inside.” She mimed blowing smoke off the end of her pistol and flipped it back into the back of her cutoffs with a wink.

Percy offered him a hand, and he took it, allowing himself to be pulled up and led into the living room. Queenie followed shortly behind, and with Percy’s help, pulled Newt into an armchair, where she began nursing the black eye that Gellert had given him.

“Are you hurt?” Percy asked as they sank down onto the couch.

Credence shook his head. “He didn’t—didn’t touch me,” he stammered. “Just…” He held up his hand, and was horrified to see that it was shaking uncontrollably. His heart was pounding, and his head was swimming.

“I think you might be going into shock. Pretty normal, given the circumstances. Here—“ Percy wrapped one of Newt’s fuzzy, multicolored knit blankets around his shoulders, and tucked it in there. He felt Credence clutch onto a fistful of his shirt. “Breathe with me, love, in, two-three-four, out, two-three-four…”

Credence felt his wakefulness slip away as the tension in his muscles did, disappearing into Percy’s warm arms and the inviting smell of him. It felt like that night they’d spent together, on that very couch—one of the happiest nights that Credence could remember. It wouldn’t be too much of a shame if they just repeated that, right here and now…

 

Percy tried to keep his fingers from shaking as he raked them gently through Credence’s hair, feeling his breathing slow as he fell asleep. It was at once incredible and terrifying, for someone who had gone through as much shit as Credence had to trust him so unconditionally. He figured he must have done something right. 

Red and blue lights flashed through the window from the police car that had arrived to deal with Grindelwald. Testimony from the police commissioner’s army veteran sister had been plenty to convince the cops to take Grindelwald into custody—not to mention that the sobbing lunatic had practically spilled the whole thing as soon as he saw police uniforms.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Credence leaning on his chest, a secure and comfortable weight that assured him that he was safe. For all his time in the army, Percy had never been so glad to see someone shot as he was when that piece of scum crumpled to the ground. He forgot how ruthless Queenie could be in defense of someone she cared about, and how good of a shot she had always been. She and Sera were well known at the closest practice range.

Newt picked that moment to scramble up out of the armchair, gasping and glancing around furiously until he met Queenie’s eyes.

“What happened?” he demanded, louder than Percy had ever heard the man speak in his life. Credence shifted slightly in his sleep.

“Shh,” Queenie said, her hands out in front of her placatingly, “everything’s fine. We’ll explain in detail later, but basically Credence had the sense to call us after Blondie knocked you out and we arrived in the nick of time. Tina made it, too, so the perp’s in custody, and Credence is fine.” She gestured to the blanket-ensconced pair on the couch. 

Newt saw them, and sagged back into his armchair. “I can’t believe I let this happen.” He groaned furiously.

“Not your fault,” Percy said quietly, trying not to disturb Credence. “I don’t think any of us expected Grindelwald to go to these lengths.”

Newt sighed, chewing his lip. “You’re probably right.” 

_“…_ Tina’s gonna want to take this to the station straightaway, isn’t she.” Percy said morosely. More of a statement than a question, really.

Newt nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’ll need to deal with it, all of it.”

“It’s what makes her a good cop, Newton.” Queenie interjected.

“We should at least try to talk her into waiting until, I dunno, tomorrow?” Suggested Percy, glancing at the pile of Credence in his lap. “For his sake.”

“Yeah.”

So when Tina stormed in the door, still furious, Percy scooped Credence up in his arms and took him to his room, while Newt, Queenie, and Tina talked urgently around the dining table. He tucked Credence in, picked a book off the many shelves the lined the place, and settled into the uncomfortable chair in the corner to wait for Credence to wake up.

Somewhere around chapter nine, he heard rustling from the bed. Credence didn’t seem quite awake yet, but he was twitching, his brow furrowed. Concerned, Percy marked his place and set the book down, moving to the side of the bed. Credence gasped, and his eyes flew open.

“Hey, there,” Percy said quietly. 

Credence blinked. “I thought maybe I’d dreamed it. You’re really here.”

“Yup,” Percy managed. “I’m right here. Ain’t that easy to get rid of me.”

Credence looked up at him searchingly. “Stay?”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

So he shucked off his shoes, left them by the chair, and lay down on top of the bed. Credence leaned into him and breathed a shuddering sigh.

“Thank you, Percy,” He said, barely audible. Somehow Percy knew he didn’t just mean for right then.

“No need to thank me, love,” Percy murmured in return, with a small smile. “Can’t think of a single place I’d rather be.”

Without further ado, Credence reached up and kissed him on the lips. It was just a short thing, no more than a peck, really, but a kiss nonetheless. 

As soon as they came apart, their eyes met, and Credence looked equal parts shocked and worried. He shrank back. “I don’t know what…” he brought his hand up to his lips, where Percy caught it gently and covered it with his own. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, looking away.

Percy hadn’t cried in quite a long time, not since he last saw Love Actually, but his eyes were suddenly watery. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry,” he managed, finding it difficult to pull words together. “I… I don’t want to drag you into something that you don’t want. I’m a ruined old man, Credence, I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

Credence just seemed confused. “I—what?” he stared for a moment, and then continued. “You’re wrong,” he began, blinking owlishly, “you… you’re everything I could ever dream of. I thought you would never have me.”

Percy pushed down the wave of exaltation that flowed through him at those words. “Credence, how could you… you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I was gone on you from the first time we met, honest to God. It would be my fucking _honor_ to have you.” 

Credence was red as a beet, but he was smiling like mad. “Okay.” And he pulled Percy into a vice-like embrace, pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth. Percy laughed a little, wondering if he was dreaming. He just held Credence tightly, figuring that one way or another he didn’t want to let go.

They lay there for hours as evening turned into twilight, and no one disturbed them, so Percy figured that Tina had been convinced to leave legal proceedings for the morning. Just as well. He realized he was more or less the happiest he’d ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright! to be totally honest i'm still unsure about this as a resolution/climax moment but i'm posting it anyway. friendly criticism is more than welcome. don't get me wrong though, there's more fluff to come.


	10. Fragments

Tina was really itching to take them to the station in the morning. She had two dark bags under her eyes, and her footsteps were heavier than usual when she came to Credence’s door to get him up. The smell of pancakes had woken him up anyway. Newt tended to stress-bake.

She had the decency to knock and call his name gently without opening the door, sparing Percy and Credence the embarrassment of being found tangled up in each other like a pair of chilly koalas. Credence blushed anyway as Percy started to stir, rolling onto his back and dragging his hands over his eyes with a groan.

“Morning,” Credence said quietly.

“Is it already?” Percy mumbled, yawning. 

“We have to go to the…”

“Shhh,” Percy turned back onto his side to face Credence. “It’s going to suck, but let’s do one thing at a time, yes? I smell pancakes.”

Credence smiled a little. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Pancakes.”

They slowly migrated out of the bed, into the bathroom, into the dining room. Credence marveled at the way they seemed to move around each other effortlessly, and wondered if this is what it felt like to be totally comfortable with someone. It struck him that he wouldn't mind doing this every morning, for a long, long time.

Tina watched with apprehension as they finished their pancakes, and then paced back and forth across the kitchen floor as Credence washed his dishes.

“Credence… about today. I thought we should go over it beforehand.” 

Credence swallowed and nodded, slotting the last plate into its place in the dishwasher.

“You’ll give a statement, to one of my colleagues, Officer Carerra. I wish I could do it, but legally speaking I’m not an unbiased party.”

Credence quickly came to wish that the law wasn’t quite so strict in that regard, because Carrera was terrifying. She was about four foot eleven, slim, with big eyes, and her black hair was tied back so tight Credence wondered how she could blink. He sat hunched into his chair, trying to focus on the advice Alice had given him when he’d called in the car on the way to the station: _they’re on your side, you don’t need to be afraid of them._

“What was your connection to the suspect, Mr. Barebone?” She asked flatly, twirling a pen between her fingers.

“We… met five years ago, almost, I think. I was handing out pamphlets.”

“And what was the nature of your relationship?” 

“We were involved,” Credence managed, stuttering. “He… didn’t want me seeing anyone else…” he managed to struggle his way through the rest of the story, avoiding the details of their later encounters, which, until now, he had been doing a stellar job of not thinking about.

“Did Mr. Grindelwald ever physically assault or harm you in any way?” Carrera recited in the same detached tone.

“Yes,” Credence breathed. A beat passed. He could hear the clock above the table ticking.

“Please elaborate.”

“He hit me first when he thought he’d seen me with a girl in an alley one afternoon.Then—“ Credence squeezed his eyes shut and regathered himself. “It got more frequent. Once a month, then once a week. Or so. When Ma made me…” he trailed off.

“I am familiar with your case history, Mr. Barebone,” Carerra interrupted. Was it wishful thinking, or was there a hint of softness in her gaze? Whatever it was, it quickly disappeared.  “Did you have any contact with the suspect after moving in with Ms. Goldstein and Mr. Scamander?”

Credence briefly explained the time with the flowers, when Percy had saved him— _Percy_ —

Carrera was standing, shuffling her papers into order. “That’s all, Mr. Barebone, you are free to go.” 

Credence nodded, avoiding her eye, and awkwardly shuffled out of his chair, making it out the door as fast as he could without flat out bolting.

Percy was waiting for him just outside, andgave him a quick hug before pulling a little away and lifting Credence’s chin up to meet his eyes.

“You alright?” He murmured.

“Yeah, fine,” Credence replied, hunching back over a little. “Fine.”

“Mr. Percival Graves, please,” Carrera called from the door of her office. Percy straightened up and gave him an apologetic look. Credence smiled briefly and turned to let Percy pass. Percy squeezed his arm softly and followed Carrera into the room, leaving Credence to make his way to the lobby. It took far too long.

He felt like he was having tunnel vision. Were his peripherals getting blurry or was he just imagining things?

_Breathe,_ he reminded himself, focusing on the uncomfortable plastic chairs that stood in strict lines before him. Only a few more yards.

“Credence,” he heard Tina’s voice, “are you alright? You look kinda pale.”

He shook his head. “Fine, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Was Carrera too mean? I told her to tone it down, but, you know, she's not really a morning person…”

He was fairly certain that she kept talking about something or another--whatever it was escaped him. He was just trying to keep the buzzing in his ears from getting too loud. She leaned into his space a little bit, and thoughtlessly, he flinched.

“Are you _sure_ you’re all right?” Newt said, scrambling up beside them.

“It’s loud,” he said helplessly. It was. Every time the policewoman at the front desk answered her radio, it released this incredibly grating shriek of static, making him want to curl in on himself even further.

Time passed in a tree-sap kind of way, like he was turning into one of those flies trapped in amber. Eventually, he thought he could smell Percy’s leather jacket and the lavender hand soap that Newt always got from the farmer’s market. There was a large, warm hand on his shoulder,   and he was being guided outside. The sun was incredibly bright.

 

Percy was _furious._ He was definitely going to have a strong word with Tina about keeping a handle on her employees. Weren’t they supposed to have some kind of trauma sensitivity training? For God’s sake, the Army had been better equipped to deal with PTSD than that damned cop.

“Tina,” he said urgently as they got in the car, keeping his voice down to avoid disturbing Credence. 

“I know, I know… shit. It’s going to take half an hour to get home.”

Percy grimaced and glanced at the young man clinging to his shirt sleeve. “Credence… hey, buddy. How would you like to go to my apartment? It’s closer. If you want. Tina can come.”

Credence nodded ever so slightly. “’S alright. She’s busy.”

“You sure?”

He nodded again.

Percy glanced up, meeting Tina’s eyes in her rear-view mirror. She smiled slightly and jerked her head to the side. “We’re just a couple blocks away. I’ll drop you off. Text me.”

“Sure thing, Sarge,” he replied, returning the half-smile.

“'Appreciate it, Sarge.” 

She double parked in front of Percy’s apartment, and he tugged Credence out onto the sidewalk, fumbling for his keys with his free hand.

 

Percy’s apartment was a mess. There were some dishes in the sink, and papers of all kinds piled on the coffee table. His leather jacket was crumpled haphazardly across most of the carpet in front of his TV. He let Percy deposit him on the couch, and tried to absorb the smell of the air. It was a little musty, like the AC filter hadn’t been cleaned out in a while and the windows weren’t usually open, in a sort of old bookstore kind of way. It smelled like Percy.

“Tea,” said the latter, interrupting Credence’s thoughts. He accepted the warm mug of oolong and sat further back against the old couch, watching Percy moving around in front of him, eventually settling down just off to his left.

“Futurama?” He asked, reaching for the remote. Credence nodded. 

They sat in silence as canned voices came from the TV. Somewhere around the second act of the episode, Credence realized that the cloudy feeling of panic had almost entirely dissipated.

“Thanks,” he told Percy, with no prompting. 

Percy looked confused for a second, and then just shook his head ruefully. “Don’t thank me, love. That cop was a real ass. Besides, it’s nice to have you over.”

He reached over and kissed Credence’s forehead. It as just a peck, but Credence still felt himself blush a little. Percy looked _stupidly_ pleased with himself, and Credence couldn’t help but lean in and kiss that dumb smile. Futurama forgotten, their legs tangled together and they fell lengthways across the couch. He was wearing one of those henleys, the ones that had holes in the hem and made his arms look stupidly good and stretched just so across his chest, which Credence was happy to press himself into as his attention coalesced at the stubble on Percy’s jaw, and the way it scraped slightly when their kiss deepened. Unbidden, Percy’s stomach growled, startling Credence. They both laughed.

“Lunch?” Credence mumbled into Percy’s shoulder.

“I’m thinking takeout.”

“Okay.”

 

“Do you want to talk about this morning?” Percy broke their comfortable silence over chow mien.

Credence swallowed hard. “I mean… It’s nothing, really. Just hard to talk about it. The… event. Events.” He stared at his fork.

“That’s fair.” Percy sighed. “I really kinda hate that cop.”

Credence shrugged. “She was just doing her job.”

“I mean, I guess, but she shouldn’t have been so hard on you.”

“We all have bad days, that’s not her fault.” 

Percy just shook his head and bit back a smile.

“What,” Credence prodded, though he found that his exasperation was only fond.

“You’re too damn nice for your own good, love.” Percy said finally, and Credence flushed slightly. A mean little voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe that was what had gotten him into this mess with Gellert to begin with. He said something to that effect, and the smile dropped straight off Percy’s face, making Credence push himself further into his chair before he realized what he was doing.

“Credence. Being the person with basic human decency in this scenario does _not_ make it your fault.”

“You sound like Alice again,” Credence sighed, taking a moment to consciously relax his muscles. Percy’s words tended to have the power to untangle his insides the way a therapist’s can’t.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, she’s a smart lady.” 

And Credence found himself smiling again. Percy stood up to take their empty take-out boxes to the trash.

“Oh!” he said, pausing, “Um, I was wondering… do you wanna stay the night? With me? You don’t—“

Credence quieted him with a tug on that ridiculous henley and the press of a kiss. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter because i felt bad about the last few short ones. uhhhh im probably gonna do a few more chapters, then the trial, then... uh.. an epilogue. No clue. I have absolutely no plan. wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, BAVDL is based on a real life organization called Bikers Against Child Abuse. They actually exist, and they protect victims of child abuse. if you're curious their website is bacaworld.org. i changed too much of the stuff to feel comfortable actually using their name. Also, like, the situation in the fic wouldn't.... actually happen. so.  
> at any rate i hope you like it despite All That.


End file.
